Wreckage
by MaplePucks
Summary: America is eager to explore a new ship wreck off the East coast, a pirate ship in fact. England on the other hand is apprehensive and does not want him to go. The headstrong nation ignores him and heads off for adventure. He soon learns that there is more then one kind of wreckage on the seafloor. *Family fic, super fluffy*


**An America one shot! Yay! ^^**  
**This was requested from a Deviant (who is writing me a Canada one, one-shots based on our main cosplays!) I was going to write it as a UsUk but I was in a FACE mood. **

**Hope you enjoy! Please read and review! Reviews are super awesome!  
PS- Make sure to check out the A/N at the bottom afterwards! ^^**

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Wet suit, check. Scuba tank topped with off with oxygen, check. Various gages and pressurizing gear, check. Breath apparatus, check. Finally, scuba mask and flippers, check. America ran down his mental list of items checking to make sure he was ready for his dive. He was out on a tiny "research" boat off the east coast of his land. A new pirate ship had just been discovered and America was eager to explore. It had been quite some time since he had gotten to do maritime archaeology which next to going through the sites of the original 13 colonies, it was his favorite. One more check, he started pointing to everything, whispering to himself. A small scoff from the person sitting on the benches starboard side, forced him to stop.

"You git, you've checked everything thrice now. What? Fancy yourself a Saint Nick in the making?" England remarked gruffly. He sat with his arms crossed, one leg over the other looking like he wanted nothing more than to be off of this boat. America laughed a little.

"No just want to make sure I have everything. It's been a while you know." He said, adjusting the straps to his tank so that it fit more snuggly.

"Then why the bloody hell are you doing it?" England asked. He looked up to the graying clouds the were forming and shivered. It was getting a bit cold, America thought.

"For the adventure and you know scientific stuff." He said. England scoffed at him again and America got a little agitated. "Why did you even come if you're just gonna make fun of me?" America shot at him. He could of done that at home, save him the trouble of being out here he thought. To his surprise, England's demeanor changed slightly. He shifted in his chair and gripped his jacket tighter.

"I have my reasons." He said quietly. America stared at him for half a second before turning back to his task of getting ready. At the moment, he didn't have the patience to try and read the atmosphere. He had never been that good at it anyway, America thought. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw England breathe a sigh, almost of relief. Just ignore it, America thought giving him another small glance before digging into a box for his mesh artifact bag.

Finally, everything was set. He had ended up checking everything a forth time, mostly just to annoy England, and now he was ready. America climbed carefully out onto the steel grate on the back of the boat with his flippers on. Just as he was about to put on his mask, he heard England clear his throat. America turned to face him and he saw that he was standing with his arms still crossed. He looked uneasy, almost unsure. Was he really that nervous about America taking this dive?

"Be careful, you headstrong twit." He said, in an unusually concerned voice. America gave him a huge smile, spit into his mask and then pressed it onto his face. Turning back to the water, he gave his now famous mock salute behind him to England and jumped in, creating a huge splash.

Even with his wet suit on, the water was still fairly cold. He wouldn't be able to spend too much time down at the ship. Following the cable that lead down to the anchor, which if he was correct should have been dropped right beside the wreck, America began to think to himself. Why was England so concerned about him coming down here? He had done this hundreds of times, just because this was the first time in a while didn't mean he had forgotten how. He hadn't forgotten the danger that came with it either. Perhaps England was just jealous he couldn't come along, seeing as how he couldn't swim. That was a real shame America thought, he couldn't see how England could be so afraid of the water. He, on the other hand, loved it. Swimming, diving, water sports, all of it, America just loved being around or in the water. Yeah, America smiled, he must be jealous he couldn't come on the adventure.

After what seemed like forever, he made it to the wreck. It was spectacular to see, sitting perfectly upright on the seabed. Almost like it could still sail away to go off pillaging at any moment. The masts were splayed out on either side, making it appear from above to be a gigantic bug crawling along in the sand. As America drew closer, he began to see some details. The ornate metal work, excellent woodcrafting, all of it surely must of made this ship grand in its time. If it weren't for the fact that it would fog up his mask terribly, he would have shed a few tears at its beauty.

America made his way to the deck and looked around, nothing too exciting was ever on the top deck. A few canons, maybe a curious flag or two but mostly America found it boring. His objective was further forward on the ship, the room that held all the goodies and surprises. The captains quarters. America looked around and spotted the door that still hung in its frame but was slightly ajar. As fast as he could, he swam over and squeezed himself in.

Once inside he started scanning everything with his scuba light, the narrow beam of light falling on all sorts of interesting items. It was all covered in the same decaying filthy slime but there were a few gems that made America very excited. A well preserved spyglass, a few awesome charting items, and even a tray with the chalice and rum bottle still up right. America placed a few things into his mesh bag and turned to leave when his beam of light caught something that was still glistening on the floor, the light glinting back at him. Interesting, America was instantly drawn to it, never one to resist something shiny. When he got to it, however, he froze.

Now that the beam was fully on it, America couldn't believe what he was seeing. A small handful of coins, ones that his colonist had crafted themselves, were nestled in what looked like a decaying cloth bag. All that remained of it was a small American flag patch. Well, it was an early flag, one that was used for the colonies. That wasn't the only reason America recognized it, long ago, he had given that very bag full of coins to England.

He closed his eyes and thought back to that day, nostalgia had really been getting the best of him lately.

He had been maybe nine or ten in human years, England had been taking care of him for a while by then. He had come to love his "big brother" very much and wanted him to be as happy as he was. One day he had seen England sitting on his sofa during one of his visits, America remembered he looked so sad and stressed. So he had dashed up to his room, grabbed the bag full of coins and rushed back down. Huffing and puffing in front of England he had thrust the bag into his hand. He remembered the surprised look on England's face.

"What's this little man?" he had asked, opening it to look at the coins.

"It's all I have and it's not my citizens money. I earned this for myself. I want to help you big brother." America had told him. He remembered, England had shook his head at him.

"America, I can't take this. It's yours" He had said, ironically now that America thought about it. He had tried to give it back but America shook his own head him, wrapping his little hands around both England's hands and the bag. He had shoved it into his chest and walked away. England had taken the bag and just held it in his hands, waiting until America had left the room to cry.

America smiled at the memory but it made him sad to think a few short years later they had both gone to war. It also made him a little sad to know his hard earned money had never been spent. He reached down and picked up one of the coins. Turning it over in his hands he saw something he didn't recognize. It had the year 1776 hand carved its face, grabbing at the other coins he saw that they were all like that. Why, why was it carved on all of them? His heart sank as he realized the answer, quickly he dropped all but one coin and swam out of the room and headed back for the surface.

Of course, he should have known, he should have always known. After the war, in the early 1800's before the war of 1812, England had relapsed into piracy. Roaming the Caribbean and East Coast, pillaging and causing mayhem. America had lost touch with him during this time, the scars from the Revolution obviously still fresh for both of them. Not that he had really wanted to see him, but to know that England had been in this much pain made him sad. This must have been why he didn't want him to dive down to this wreck, he knew these coins were there. England hadn't wanted America to know, didn't want him to find the coins. America's heart gave a little flip, that also meant that England had been on the ship when it sank. Oh god, he must have been terrified, America thought.

America broke the surface a short time later. He climbed silently back on board and found England pacing. Acting perfectly normal, he pulled off his flippers, mask and tank and walked over to England. He didn't say a word, instead he just looked into his eyes and smiled. Grabbing England's hand suddenly, he pressed the coin into his palm and without a word walked away to go take off his wet suit. When he assumed England thought he was out of ear shot, he heard him start to cry.

"Thank you America." England said quietly. America let his heroic smile spread across his face.

"You're welcome big bro." He said just as quietly, unzipping the wet suit to get changed.

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**A/N- I have a headcanon for England that he "relapsed" into piracy in the early 1800's (this is because it made a brief resurgence historically) just before he launched the War of 1812. It was spurred on by the stress of the American Revolution. When the ship in this story (yet to be named) sank with him on board, he gave up piracy for good. I plan on writing an England one-shot companion to this about the sinking. Very much looking forward to it! ^^**


End file.
